


Every Bone in Your Body

by Penumbren



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-27
Updated: 2006-03-27
Packaged: 2017-10-18 21:00:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/193237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penumbren/pseuds/Penumbren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunter proves to Benoit that he's not untouchable.</p><p>Please note: This story is about Chris Benoit. If that bothers you, don't read it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Bone in Your Body

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the Iron Man match on Raw between Hunter and Benoit. This was originally going to be a much more light-hearted thing, but Bastard!Hunter decided he wanted to play.
> 
> Inspired by a Poison song (no, I really haven't gotten over my childhood *g*); the lyrics are at the end of the story.

"That fucking bastard," Hunter muttered, glaring at the medic who was stitching up his forehead. "That hurt, dammit!" The other members of Evolution clustered around him, varying degrees of concern on their faces; Randy looked worried, but Batista and Ric mostly just looked angry. Hunter grimaced mentally. As much as he appreciated his cronies, there were times that he really wondered about them. Right now, they were just getting on his nerves.

"Sorry. Quit moving and it won't pull so much," the medic answered. Ric caught Hunter's eye and leered.

"Ya want us to take care of him for ya?" The eagerness in Ric's voice made Hunter smirk, but he shook his head, then swore and glared at the medic again.

"I told you, stop moving."

Hunter bared his teeth at the man, then met the eyes of each member of Evolution in turn.

"No. I want to do this myself," he replied, an evil grin spreading across his face as a sudden plan occurred to him. "I'll show him he's not as untouchable as he thinks he is."

~~

Hunter stalked down the hallway, smiling to himself. He didn't even notice the other people in the hall who scattered as soon as they saw the look on his face. He swiped irritably at the blood drying on his forehead. Much to the medic's dismay, he'd left the trainer's room as soon as his stitches were done, swatting the man away. He was far too intent on his new plan to care about washing up or even taking his painkiller. The low throbbing pain in his head increased his irritation but served to remind him exactly why he was doing this.

Finally finding the door he was looking for, he halted in front of it, glaring daggers at the temporary nameplate. Chris Benoit. The cheating bastard, using Eugene to win and then acting like he hadn't planned the whole thing. Oh yeah, he'd pay for that. The title was _his_ , and he was damned if a half-wit like Eugene was going to keep him away from it... or if Benoit was going to get away with that little game.

Ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the crew members who were clearing up cables and other equipment in the hallways, he took a breath, narrowed his eyes, and threw the door open, storming through it and slamming it shut behind him.

He halted abruptly as he took in the sight before him: Benoit was sitting on the bench in front of his locker, barefoot, obviously having already been to the trainer's himself. His unlaced boots were off to the side, and he was holding a towel. His startled expression as he looked up brought Hunter to a momentary pause, but he collected himself quickly and advanced slowly on his enemy.

"You cheating bastard." His voice was low but nearly vibrated from the anger he felt. Benoit gave him a doubtful look, almost amused.

" _I'm_ a cheating bastard? For what?"

Hunter's eyes narrowed again.

"Oh, please. Like you didn't plan it in advance; you told Eugene to come down to the ring and attack me, to make sure you won. You knew you didn't stand a chance otherwise," he growled. Benoit stared at him for a minute, then did the unexpected.

He laughed.

"You actually believe that, don't you? Arrogant fucker." Benoit rose to his feet, dropping the towel on the bench and faced Hunter squarely. "I didn't tell Eugene to come down to the ring, Hunter. I didn't even know he was here. But you, of all people, accusing _me_ of cheating... what do you call Evolution coming down to the ring?" he demanded.

"I call it supporting me. I didn't tell them to interfere with the match," Hunter snarled back. Benoit snorted derisively.

"Give me a break, Hunter. Everybody knows how Evolution works---to paraphrase a friend of mine, you lie, you cheat, you gang up on your enemies to beat the crap out of them. You knew what they were going to do even without telling them. You can't stand to win a match honestly, can you?"

Hunter's lip curled as he glared at Benoit, standing so arrogantly in front of him, like he had a _right_ to be calling him a cheater, a right to be champion...

"I can win any match I want to, Benoit." His voice dropped almost to a purr as he stalked toward Benoit, enjoying the sudden startlement on the other man's face. "You, though... you think you're so perfect, so untouchable. You try to present such a _nice_ front: a family man, loving wife and children, beautiful home, a career that's been long and respectable... If only people knew how it really was." A slow smile spread across Hunter's face as he watched Benoit draw himself up, tensing visibly at his words... and his increasing nearness.

"Too bad the public doesn't know the _truth_ , huh, Chris? That you and your wife only spend time together when it's necessary for promotions, that your kids barely know you... that your career has always carried an _interesting_ reputation with it backstage. You're almost as bad as Shawn," he purred, enjoying the flash of pain that Benoit revealed at his words before he managed to pull his facade back together.

"You may not be quite as big of a slut, but you've actually outdone him for bad personal choices. I mean, honestly... Bret? You _knew_ he was a manipulative, power-hungry bastard who only cared about himself. He sold you out more times than anyone can count before you finally caught on. Eddie? He just needed you to keep picking him up, killing you even before he finally got around to trying to kill himself. Kurt? Another manipulative bastard. He just hides it better. How long did it take you to figure out that he was playing you, Chris? How long did it take you to figure out why you kept losing your big matches? He didn't want you to outdo him... sounds a lot like Bret, if you ask me. And your wife..."

Hunter laughed sharply, watching Benoit flinch with every word he threw at him. "You might've had a chance at a normal life with her and the kids... if you'd been able to hide your affairs. But she found out... and she won't let you have the kids, and she won't let you get away from her. Vindictive bitch, isn't she?"

"Damn you," Benoit almost whispered, pale. He glared up at Hunter, who was only a few steps away. "God _damn_ you, you bastard. You enjoy hurting people, enjoy making people suffer... but I've had enough." He took a step toward Hunter, eyes blazing.

"Shawn is the way he is because of Bret and because of _you_. You finally broke him, and now he's not enough to even amuse you, is he? I'm _not_ going to be your next toy, Hunter. It took me a long time to catch on to some things, yeah, but you were obvious from the start. Fuck you, Hunter," he spat.

Hunter smiled lazily at him.

"Oh, no, Chris, I don't think so. But _somebody_ will be before I leave here tonight." His smile widened as he watched realization of his meaning flicker in Benoit's eyes.

"You..." Before Chris could even get out the words, Hunter lashed out, his fist striking Benoit's injured ribs. Benoit doubled over with a gasp, and Hunter was on him before he could get his breath back. Aiming for the injured ribs, the vulnerable shoulder, the already-aching head...

He almost laughed at Benoit's pitiful attempts to defend himself. When he paused, he realised that Benoit had fallen to the floor and that he was straddling his hips. A sudden flare of heat as their groins rubbed together told him that he was already getting hard, and as he tilted his head to see why Benoit had stopped fighting, he smirked as he realised that he'd been knocked out cold on the bench as he went down.

With an amused snort, he stood up and went to the door, locking and bolting it. He was somewhat surprised that no one had called security on them, but chalked it up to the crew members having fled the area when he got there. Too bad for Chris, he mused as he turned around again. Benoit was moaning slightly as he twitched in pain on the cold floor. Hunter watched him for a minute, greatly enjoying the sight of Benoit helpless in front of him.

He walked back to where Benoit lay on the floor and lifted him roughly by the shoulder, dragging him to the ratty couch on the side of the room, propping him mostly upright. Benoit groaned at the movement, and Hunter slapped his face, impatient.

"Wake the fuck up, Benoit. You're not going to miss out on this." With one quick movement, he dropped his trunks to the floor and quickly unlaced his boots, leaving him naked. Benoit murmured slightly, opening still-dazed eyes that stared at him as he kicked his gear into the corner.

"Good boy," he said, patting Benoit on the head. Taking his dick in his hand, he jacked himself for a minute, sighing at the familiar sensation.

"Wha... what're you..." Chris murmured, blinking as he tried to focus on him. When his eyes finally focused on Hunter's erection, Hunter grinned as they widened before shooting back up to his face. "You can't..."

"I can't what, Benoit? Do _this_?" Taking the half-step necessary, Hunter shoved his cock into Benoit's open mouth, his eyes fluttering shut for an instant at the sensations.

He grabbed the back of Benoit's head, forcing him to take all of it, enjoying the tears that formed in Benoit's eyes as he gagged. The tightening of his throat made Hunter thrust, and he moaned, thrusting a few more times before pausing. Benoit's hands were on his hips, his fingers digging almost painfully into his skin, trying to stop his movements. Hunter shifted a little, to put a knee across Benoit's chest to hold him down further, and thrust again, harder. Benoit whimpered, his fingers clawing at Hunter's hips, but the slight pain only egged Hunter on, his eyes glued to the sight of his cock sliding in and out of Benoit's lips, glistening with his saliva.

"Nice, Benoit," he finally muttered. "You're good at this." Benoit glared up at him, but was incapable of answering. Hunter's smirk was wiped from his face, however, when Chris bit the sensitive head as hard as he could.

"Fuck!" Hunter practically howled, staggering back a step. He glanced down at himself and didn't see any blood, but it fucking _hurt_. He looked back at Benoit, but his momentary distraction had been enough. With a grunt, he fell to the ground as Benoit lunged and tackled him, his shoulder driving the breath out of him.

"You fucking bastard," Benoit growled. Hunter could only gasp for air, staring at him. Benoit hit him, striking the stitches, and he flinched away. Benoit smiled grimly, seemingly oblivious to the tears still leaking from his eyes, and kept punching him, aiming at his sore spots. Hunter gasped and groaned, but managed to squirm onto his side, catching his breath.

"Can't believe... never imagined... capable of this..." Chris panted in between blows, almost lost in his own world as he kept swinging. Hunter, finally able to take a deep breath, snarled and twisted beneath him, catching him off guard. With a triumphant growl, he rolled them over so that he was on top again and caught Benoit's hands, pinning him down.

"Not so untouchable now, are you?" Hunter hissed into Benoit's ear. Benoit shuddered, turning his face away from Hunter, his eyes closing. Hunter shifted, pinning him down further... and realised abruptly why Chris was refusing to look at him.

"I never knew you were a pain slut," he drawled, his eyes filling with malicious glee. "Or maybe you just like being forced?" Benoit flinched at his words, his mouth compressed into a thin line. Hunter smiled a bit as he shifted, rubbing deliberately against Chris.

"Don't worry, Benoit... I'm sure I can keep this up until you admit that you want it," he taunted, thrusting against the other man's groin. Benoit's eyes flickered, but he otherwise gave no response.

Hunter leaned down and licked delicately at the drying tear tracks on his face.

"So sweet, Chris. But why tears? I mean, Bret always bragged that you _loved_ giving head. He talked about it constantly backstage at WCW," Hunter taunted, watching Benoit's eyes squeeze tighter shut as he stiffened under Hunter. "Well, that and what a good fuck you were. That's all I heard from him when I visited Kevin and Scott," Hunter added, the obvious pain on Benoit's face just turning him on more. He managed to shift enough that he could use one hand to grab Benoit's tights, pushing them down over his hips.

Chris tried to struggle again at that, but Hunter slammed his head down onto the floor, brutally and efficiently. He paused long enough to consider his victim, casting a practiced eye over him. Deciding that he was still conscious, just dazed, Hunter sat back on his haunches and stripped Benoit's tights off. He let out a low whistle as he got his first good look at him and wondered how he'd managed to hide _that_ from the locker room.

"Damn, Chris. That's nice," he said, almost wishing that Benoit were conscious enough to have heard him. Too bad for him. He shrugged and stood up, spotting Chris's travel bag on the bench. He rifled through it until he found what he was looking for and smiled to himself as he turned back around.

"Feel like a big man, huh, Hunt?" The resignation in Benoit's voice caught Hunter by surprise. Chris had managed to sit partway up but was looking nauseous from the movement. He was watching Hunter, surrender written in the lines of his body.

"Why shouldn't I?" Hunter retorted, ignoring the odd reaction that Benoit's tone had sparked in him. He was going to fuck him one way or the other; if Benoit wanted to make it easy on himself, that was his decision. Chris shrugged weakly at Hunter's question.

"Dunno. Why should you?" Benoit's voice faltered as he spoke and one hand went to his head as he sagged downward again. Hunter paused, watching him. If Benoit was going to puke, he sure as hell wasn't doing it on him. After a minute of silence, he walked over to where he'd left Benoit. The other man watched him silently, his eyes inscrutable.

"What's the matter, Benoit? Give up already?" Hunter was almost disappointed. He'd been expecting more resistance, had looked forward to beating Benoit down before taking what he wanted from him. This sudden surrender made him uneasy. Benoit shrugged weakly.

"Why fight, Hunter? You're bigger than me, you've knocked me out twice, and you obviously know all there is to know about me. Why deny it?" Benoit's voice was bitter and his eyes were dark as he met Hunter's gaze. Hunter was taken aback by the hatred he saw there.

"Regardless of whatever I may have thought about, or even dreamt about, it's obvious that you're nothing but what you act like: A complete prick who only thinks about himself." Narrowing his eyes in anger, Hunter raised his hand and slapped Benoit, leaving an angry red handprint on his face. Momentary tears sprang to Chris's eyes, but otherwise he didn't react. That just pissed Hunter off more.

"What the fuck do you mean, what you dreamt about?" he demanded, glaring at Benoit.

Benoit shook his head slowly, wincing as he did.

"No, Hunter. I'm not going there. You're going to take what you want no matter what I do. I'm sure as hell not giving away parts of me that no longer concern you."

And Hunter could tell that he meant it -- whatever "it" was. He frowned, not sure why it mattered that he know, but it did. He stared at Benoit, who just looked back, his eyes nearly emotionless. Nearly...? He blinked, suddenly wondering what that nameless emotion was. He growled in frustration and dropped the bottle of lotion he was holding on the floor next to Benoit.

"Fine, Benoit. You want to try to play mind games, go ahead. It won't fucking work," he snarled, dropping to his knees again. He grabbed Chris's shoulder to roll him on to his stomach, but Benoit pulled away from him.

"No. I want to see you, Hunter. I want to remember you just like this," Chris said softly, not hiding the sharp edges in his voice. Hunter rolled his eyes.

"What the fuck ever." He pushed Benoit's legs apart and picked up the lotion, squeezing it out onto his hands. He shuddered as he stroked it over himself, his flagging erection springing back to life at the touch. He leaned forward, one hand at Chris's shoulder, the other digging into his hip. His aching dick nudged at Benoit's entrance.

He stared down into Benoit's eyes, his hair falling around their faces like a curtain. He could see Benoit struggling not to react, but the hard rod pressing against his abdomen gave his game away. He paused long enough to whisper roughly, "You're never going to forget this, Benoit," and then pushed forward in one sharp movement.

He saw Benoit's face twist, heard the harsh cry that forced its way out of Chris's throat, saw the tears spring to his eyes. Benoit's hands clenched convulsively on Hunter's shoulders, digging gouges into the skin.

Hunter shuddered at that, the pain only adding to the sensations that he was drowning in. He pulled out, thrust in again, feeling the resisting muscles give way, forced to let him in. His head fell back as he thrust, letting his body take over, moving faster, harder, not caring about his partner. He could feel Benoit shuddering around him, heard him groaning, nearly sobbing as Hunter's movements tore him apart.

Hunter shifted, feeling his orgasm rushing up on him, suddenly determined to take Benoit over with him, to force the man to give that much to him. He opened his eyes and stared down at the other man. Benoit was whimpering now, tears flowing freely even as he shoved his hips up against Hunter's thrusts. Hunter's lip twisted in a savage grin as he fought to make Benoit respond to him, angling to hit his prostate with every thrust.

"Come on, Benoit... You stupid fuck, come _on_ ," Hunter snarled breathlessly. Benoit shook his head violently, his eyes squeezed shut. Hunter reached between them and grabbed Benoit's cock, pulling on it fiercely as he rocked into him with every movement of his hips.

Benoit grabbed at his arm, trying to pull it away, but stiffened with a sudden gasp, his body arching. A harsh shriek ripped out of his throat as he came, milky fluid splattering over Hunter's hand and his abdomen. Hunter's triumphant laugh was torn away from him as his orgasm hit him, forcing an almost broken noise out of him as he filled Benoit.

Sheer force of will kept him from collapsing on Benoit, not wanting to show even that weakness to the man he'd just taken. The silence of the room was broken by their harsh breathing, Benoit almost sobbing. The reek of sex and blood filled the air.

Hunter took a deep breath as he pulled out of Benoit, wiping himself off with Benoit's discarded tights. He stood up and pulled on his trunks and boots, not bothering to lace them. He was reluctant to look at the other man, although he was damned if he knew why. He could feel Benoit's gaze on him, watching him as he walked to the door. As he reached for the bolt, Chris's hoarse words stopped him cold.

"Turning coward, Hunter? Don't want to see what you've done?" Chris paused to cough, and Hunter turned his head, looking over his shoulder at him.

Benoit was sprawled on the floor, legs still spread. Hunter could see his cum in a puddle under him with a bloody tinge to it. Finger-shaped bruises marked his hips and shoulder. He was still panting, and as Hunter slowly raised his gaze, he saw that tears were pouring silently down Benoit's cheeks. A sudden wave of... shame? remorse? swept over him and he couldn't meet Benoit's cold dead eyes.

"You were right about one thing, Hunter," Benoit said tonelessly. Hunter shook his head and Benoit laughed humourlessly. "I'll never forget this." Hunter shivered at the icy coldness in the other man's voice.

Speechless, he turned and opened the door, forcing himself to walk slowly down the hallway, not run. Benoit had gotten what he deserved, after all. Stupid fuck, thinking he was so much better than Hunter, thinking he was a _champion_...

Hunter forced a smirk to his lips.

Yeah. He'd gotten just what he deserved.

 _~finis~_

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Largely inspired by the relationship between the two men, but this song crystallized the idea for me. (Say what you will about my musical taste, Poison still rocks. :)
> 
> "I Hate Every Bone In Your Body (But Mine)"  
> By Poison, from the album Power To The People
> 
> In one ear and out the other  
> Told myself this girl is trouble (yeah)  
> Everyone that looks at her  
> Has tragically been struck in love
> 
> Wait a minute  
> That chick's got me addicted  
> I... hate her so  
> Even though I wish she was my girl
> 
> I hate... every bone in your body but mine  
> I can't.. wait 'til I can hate you tonight
> 
> Never thought I'd understand  
> But she's too good but not for just one man (yeah)  
> Round and round and round she goes  
> And who she's with, don't wanna know
> 
> Wait a minute  
> That chick's got me addicted  
> I... hate her so  
> Even though I wish she was my girl
> 
> I hate... every bone in your body but mine  
> I can't.. wait till I can hate you tonight
> 
> I hate... every bone in your body but mine  
> I can't.. wait 'til I can hate you tonight
> 
> In one ear and out the other  
> Told myself this girl is trouble  
> Round and round and round she goes  
> And who she's with, don't wanna know
> 
> Yeah Yeah Yeah
> 
> Wait a minute  
> That chick's got me addicted  
> I... hate her so  
> Even though I wish she was my girl
> 
> I hate... every bone in your body but mine  
> I can't.. wait till I can hate you tonight
> 
> I hate... every bone in your body but mine  
> I can't.. wait till I can hate you tonight


End file.
